Ah, la belle Charlotte. Given everything we know about her — the impeccable pedigree, the great films, the outright personification of roughly 50 years of cool French culture, all contained in that lithe figure — it can be hard to hear her music with clear, unbiased ears. But do try; she is such a great artist. Among other things, great artists surround themselves with the right people, and Ms. Gainsbourg”s musical union on IRM with Beck is a front-to-back winner. The yearning whisper-spoken vox, the pop arrangements that belong to no single era but borrow from them all, the sense of humble cool that drifts through every note ... wow. Just wow. The songs are so simple, yet I”m at a loss as to how to describe a tune like ‘Me and Jane Doe.’ Dock-side bay chantey singalong love song? Granted, in these hands, everything on IRM is a love song of one sort or another — the cosmopolitan swoon of ‘Time of the Assassins,’ the quasi-Portisheadisms of ‘Master’s Hand’ and ‘Trick Pony,’ the steaming pulse of the title track ... just awesome, all of it. Do get! (M.L. Thrope)

This is the concluding volume in the band’s “no synth” trilogy, and mostly (there is electric guitar on one track, “The Dada Polka”) harks back to the acoustic format of the first volume, i. After Chinese opera, J&MC distortion, kid lit, and other Stephin Merritt tangents in the past six years, at first this seems like a familiar sound, especially on the opening track, but this is hardly a return to the group’s classic ‘90s style (Merritt has hinted that such a return may be forthcoming on the next album). Instead, this album was inspired by Merritt’s image of ‘60s folk music — big-production folk with dazzlingly complex arrangements. There’s everything from accordion to zither, banjo to sitar, bouzouki to tuba, giving each track a distinct sonic personality. As is so often the case in Merritt’s songs, the lyrics range from cleverly witty to wrenchingly dark ( “Seduced and Abandoned, ” in which a pregnant bride finding herself forsaken at the altar plans to drown her sorrows “and the baby too ” in a drinking binge). As on Distortion, Merritt shares vocal duties with Shirley Simms. Whether silly or serious, the songs are catchy ditties that really do often sound like folk music. So ultimately it”s another tangent, but it”s a lot easier to relate to this one. (Steve)

Album number three from this Wales-based septet (on the Canadian label known for its many large bands) delivers exactly what fans — and there are many — want: 15 songs of shout-along choruses, classic boy-girl trade-off vocals and no-nonsense melodic hooks fringed with twittering sounds and studio effects. Lyrically, Los Campesinos! have only sharpened their bite; don’t let the album title fool you, if Romance Is Boring then these kids want to bore you — with shards of guitar and revved-up rhythms. “I think we need / More post-coital and less post-rock / Feels like the build-up takes forever / But you never touch my cock” they sing on “Straight In at 101.” Sound boring to you? Didn’t think so. (Come to think of it, it doesn’t sound all that romantic either, but hey.) The ringing, bouncy single “There Are Listed Buildings” is just one of many soon-to-be-faves. (Antoine)

Even though Low has allowed volume and heft onto its records, it’s with Retribution Gospel Choir that singer-guitarist Alan Sparhawk really opens up and rocks. For this band’s second album (and first for longtime Low home Sub Pop), Sparhawk’s trio — Eric Pollard remains in the drum chair and there’s a new bassist by the name of Garrington — keeps things simple and straightforward, from album title through to the extraordinarily satisfying but very basic riffs. You can tell Sparhawk had been wanting to play this stuff for years, and credit to him for not feeling like he had to gussy up his rawk for a public that had been used to something very different and specific from him. How meat-and-taters is 2? Check these song titles: “Workin’ Hard,” “White Wolf,” “Poor Man’s Daughter.” Things do get hairy on the partly lo-fi “Something’s Going to Break” and the epic-length “Electric Guitar,” but overall, this is nothing more (and definitely nothing less) than a great rock record, free of irony and jammed with riffs. (M.L. Thrope)

Good news for fans of the rock! There’s a new Major Stars record. Return to Form — a comical title unless read as a directive — is the Boston-area band—s eighth, and third since blasting their old quartet lineup into a sun-shattering sextet lineup with three arcanely artful guitarists. But for Wayne Rogers and Kate Village, the guitarist couple at the band’s core, Return to Form might be their 20th record together. That deep-rooted magic is imprinted in the band’s sound, a relentless and beautiful celebration of solar-flare psychedelia powered by two tons of heavy chrome: lightning-fork leads cresting on chords that press on and on and on and on. Of special note here is the first recorded appearance of singer Amanda Bristow (of the soon-to-be-known folk duo Baba Yaga), who’s been appearing onstage with the band for the past couple of years; she gets two songs, Sandra Barrett gets six, and everyone is happy. Highest possible recommendation for rock adventurists!

Fucked Up fans who’ve been there since the beginning: Will you be our friend? And, oh yeah, you know those piles of singles the band’s been releasing since the early side of the last decade? They’re all stacked together here in blisteringly unrelenting fury! Two discs worth! Fuck yeah! The Toronto punk outfit really is just a smashing good time. What we learn from Couple Tracks, which actually contains 25 tracks, is the band was birthed in intensity: The debut single, “No Pasaran,” is recorded in the red but otherwise just explodes. Over time, the band has grown more proficient (not like they weren’t always though) and has gotten comfortable with letting some songs run extra-long in punk terms; credit drummer G. Beat for sustaining the furious pace no matter what. One minute, two minute, six minutes, no problem — Fucked Up is your band. A great and necessary punk document, guaranteed to wear you out before it lets up. (M.L. Thrope)

Numero’s third compilation in its Good God series rounds up obscure gospel 45s from the ‘70s, mostly from Chicago. Don’t take “funk” in the title too seriously, because while there are certainly some good get-down grooves here, a few tracks are more funky soul than straightforward funk. Nothing’s comparable to James Brown or Sly Stone, but there’s plenty of heavy bass and hypnotic vamping; “Pray a Little Longer”’s keyboards prompt thoughts of Stevie Wonder, and “Troubles of the World” is in a style that early Parliament drew on. Definitions aside, what matters is that this is one intense bunch of tracks, full of fervent singing whether from call-and-response vocal groups (Gospel Soul Revivals is especially unhinged) or testifying divas. (Steve)

Kieran Hebden’s been so busy with mixes and his many collaborations with Steve Reid that it’s been five years since we last got a long-player from Four Tet. It’s front-loaded with vocal tracks, but opener “Angel Echoes” clips vocal samples in a weirdly alienating way while “Love Cry” loops a breathy monotone delivery of the two title words. The sonic signature of Four Tet remains: a substantial underpinning of thwapping beats over which quietly insistent patterns are woven via harp, shimmering synths, music boxes, or similarly delicate-sounding instruments. Fans of the project’s iconic album Rounds will find themselves equally captivated by There Is Love in You. A two-disc vinyl edition will follow in February. (Steve)

There is no other band I can think of in all of indie rock — indeed all of rock and roll — quite like Citay. First, their sound: beautiful harmonies, a ferocious twin-guitar attack, and a big, expansive sound that combines rock, folk and psych. This is the third offering from this Bay Area outfit led by Piano Magic’s Ezra Feinberg and the Fucking Champ’s Tim Green (joined by a stellar cast of musicians), and it soars from start to finish. What makes Citay truly special, apart from their wondrous music, is how they straddle so many fences. The songs smack of sixties hippiedom, but it’s refreshingly un-self-conscious. They jam all right, but they’re no jam band. Their sound is massive, but they somehow never overwhelm. And it’s full of good cheer but not in the least bit silly. With the exception of the new Beach House there’s no album I’m loving more right now than Dream Get Together, and I can’t recommend it more. (James)